


Donatello's Journal

by Kamefootninja



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Episode: s03e21 Same As It Never Was, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6664000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamefootninja/pseuds/Kamefootninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am writing this journal to record my thoughts during my imprisonment. Also, if I should die during my time here, this journal is my last chance to let my brothers know what has happened to me." - SAINW!Don</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hamato Donatello  
  
May ? 2005  
  
I am writing this journal to record my thoughts during my imprisonment. Also, if I should die during my time here, this journal is my last chance to let my brothers know what has happened to me.  
  
Should anyone other than my brothers find it, or if they are unable to receive it, there are a few things you should know. Hopefully the entries here will help you take down the Shredder if we fail.  
  
The first thing you need to understand is that my brothers and I are not human. I am a 4'7" mutant turtle, as are my brothers. Our Sensei, Master Splinter, raised us in the art of Ninjutsu so that we may protect ourselves against our enemies.  
  
The Hamato clan have been at war with the Foot since before the city realized that Oroku Saki was a threat.  
  
I was ambushed during a solo trip to the junkyard, while attempting to find parts to repair the equipment in our hideout. To my brothers I simply disappeared, and - considering how we had previously discussed whether or not we were of any real help to the people by fighting the Foot - I wouldn’t be surprised if they believe that I simply left them.  
  
Hopefully, ~~when~~ if either myself or this journal finds its way back to the hideout, then they will understand that I did not abandon them.  
  
For obvious reasons I can't reveal the location of our hideout, but every rebel in the city knows of us 'Ninja Turtles': if you need any information, they shouldn't be too hard to find. There seems to be little point in hiding away from the world anymore, especially with the constant threat of the Shredder looming over the city.  
  
I have no idea how long I've been a prisoner now, but I'd guess about three days... In which time I’ve been given only a two litre bottle of water, which I use sparingly, not knowing how long it's meant to last.  
  
It is clear that the Shredder wants me alive, at least for now. I am not afraid to die, but I doubt that the Shredder would be merciful enough to allow me such an easy escape.


	2. Entery 2

May ? 2005  
  
When I woke up this morning I found that all my gear had been left in a corner of the room along with my bottled water, even my weapon had been returned to me. I’m not sure if it's there to mock me or challenge me.  
  
I know that I'm too weak to fight them efficiently, are they expecting me to try? Or do they want to remind me that even though I'm armed, I'm still powerless against them.  
  
If I fight them then I’ll know for sure if I can take them; if I can then I can make an escape attempt.  
  
If I do and I lose, they could cut down my food and water supply so that I’m too weak to try again. But if I don’t then I’ll never know. I can’t gave in to what they want, if they want me to try and escape then I’ll wait until I’m strong enough.  
  
I took a few sips out of the water bottle; I’m so thirsty but know that it’s important to make it last as long as possible. I quickly dressed into my gear, leaving my bo staff leaning against the wall. In the darkness of the room I didn’t notice that my bandanna was a shade of grey instead of purple.   
  
After a while I picked up my bo staff to run though a couple of practice katas, pain shot though my leg as I moved into a low stance, but after seeing that the injury wasn’t serious I changed stance and carried on. I spent a few minutes slowly running though one of the most basic katas I know, and it became apparent that it was taking up too much energy. Sitting down and drinking some more water; I was suddenly out of breath from the simple routine.  
  
I didn’t think about the grey colour of my bandanna at the time; it didn’t even cross my mind until a light flickered on and three Foot soldiers stood in front of me, their weapons drawn ready for my beating. It wasn’t until I saw the foot symbol on their uniforms that it started to sink in. I know that the Foots colours are black and red, yet all I could see was shades of grey.   
  
The flash grenade they used to catch me has left me colour blind.


	3. Entry 3

May? 2005

My eyes keep getting drawn to the device in the corner of the room. It’s clearly broken, but a few tools are lying next to it.

I know that they expect me to fix it; I’ve avoided it for a few days now, I think.

I’ve finished the last of my bottled water. I’ve calculated that they usually replace it every three days. I can’t be sure how long has passed, but I’m sure it’s been longer this time.

I’m too weak to practice my katas, and there’s nothing in the room to help distract me from the pain in my head and stomach caused by the lack of food and water; nothing but fixing the device.

I have no idea what it’s for, and without being able to see the colour of the wires it’s difficult for me too know if what I’m doing is right. Luckily being forced to think and concentrate helps to keep me sane in his empty room.

More than once I find myself putting the device to one side.

I know what they’re doing; they know that I’ll fix it to keep myself sane, and they’re purposely keeping me weak enough to give into them. It’s a sick form of Pavlov’s conditioning; they’ll give me food and water when I finish fixing whatever they leave in my room.

I know what they’re doing, yet I still find the device in my hand.

If I give in to them then this will keep happening, I’ll only ever get what I need to survive once I’ve done something for them; they’ll reward me by keeping me alive.

If it was just the need to eat and drink then I’d refuse, but the silence and emptiness of the room is starting to affect me, I’ve noticed that I’ve started talking out loud to myself to help fill the silence.

Writing this journal is helping me, but my mind keeps coming up with terrible scenarios involving my family.

I have no Idea if they hate me for leaving them. I know that I’ll probably never know, but my mind races with every scenario I can think of; and each one is worse than the last.

I decide to get to sleep once I’m confident that the device is working properly.

When I wake up, the device is gone, replaced by fresh food and water.


	4. Entry 4

May ? 2005  
  
They've been careful what they leave in my cell, usually I have no idea what the device is for.  
  
It's become a routine now, I don’t even think about it anymore. I used to wait until I was ready to pass out before working to repair whatever they left; now I start to work as soon as I see it. What’s the point in dragging out the inevitable?  
  
I know this is how they want me to think, but no matter how hard I try to force myself to think otherwise, it’s the most logical conclusion I can come up with.  
  
I know for a fact the last one was a weapon.  
  
I know that it could be used against my Brothers; I could be helping to bring about their demise. I put it aside more times than I could remember; it felt wrong just to hold it.  
  
I knew, yet I still fixed it.  
  
I've tried to sabotage some of the things from time to time, but they always find out; I don't get fed for days, and sometimes I get a beating.  
  
I only get a beating now when I disobey them.  
  
I'm guessing that Baxter Stockman or Chapman checks over everything I fix. As much as I hate to stroke their ego, they're the only people I know smart enough to pick up my subtle sabotages.  
  
I think I'm fixing something roughly three times a week, though there's no way for sure to know how much time has passed.  
  
I'm no longer too weak to train, but between' working’ and sleeping I only find a few hours now and then to practice with my bo.  
  
I don't know if I'm strong enough to try to make an escape; I want to try, but I'm not confident for a successful attempt.  
  
If I carry on like I have been I think I can lull them into a false sense of security; make them think I've given up. Part of me thinks that I've already given up by letting them condition me to work for them, but I know that I had no choice.  
  
I wonder if my brothers suspect what has happened to me. They must know by now that I didn’t just walk out on them, they would be out looking for me…wouldn’t they?  
  
If this journal finds its way into the hands of my brothers, then I want them to know that I don’t blame them. Even if they do hate me for leaving them.   
  
To be honest I hate myself right now as well.


	5. Entry 4

July 1st? 2005  
  
Today I stepped out of my cell for the first time in over two months; I know it’s been as least that long because I saw the date on one of the monitors.  
  
I’m not sure if it happened earlier today or a few days ago, I haven’t been able to focus on anything since it’s happened. I’ve received food and water without having to fix anything, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to touch it.  
  
I’d heard the sounds of a fight above my head; somehow I knew it was my brothers up there.  
  
Three Foot soldiers roughly dragged me from my room, I tried to struggle but the lights in the hallway blinded me after so long in the dark.  
  
I was strapped to a metal chair in front of a monitor, my eyes stinging from the glare of the screen but unable to look away from the picture in front of me.  
  
I was forced to watch my family fighting an army of Foot soldiers, they were dangerously outnumbered and I could already see that one of my youngest brother’s arms were bleeding heavily.  
  
There was no sound apart from my own heartbeat in my ears, but I could see that they were shouting to each other.   
  
Master Splinter; my father, was taking on most on the onslaught, holding the sea of enemies away from my brothers.  
  
I saw Mikey running to open a window, hesitating as he shouted something back to our Sensei, he was gripping his arm tightly to try and stem the blood flow.  
  
After what looked like an encouraging word from our leader, he climbed out of the window and disappeared.  
  
My two remaining brothers seemed to be arguing; Raphael was trying to push past Leonardo to get to our father, but Leo kept pushing him towards the window.  
  
Something caught my eye in the corner of the screen and my heart sank when I recognised one of the devises that I’d recently maintenanced.   
  
Two foot soldiers held me down tighter to the chair as I started to struggle, forcing my eyes to remain on the screen. I’m not ashamed to admit that I begged them to stop, I offered them anything and everything I could do to help them, even pleaded for them to kill me if they would just stop it.  
  
My eyes were glued to the device being set up on the screen.  
  
When it had been left in my room it was barley assembled enough for me to fix, I’d practically had to re-build it. I’d known what it was for before I’d finished it, it was one of the one’s that I’d tried to sabotage.  
  
From here I could see that the bomb was now fully functional.  
  
Master Splinter must have noticed it because the look on his face was the peaceful calm expression of a condemned man.  
  
Leo and Raph were still fighting by the window and looking closer I could see that Raph was crying, I hadn’t seen his cry since we were children.  
  
The whole world seemed to move in slow motion as the screen filled with the sight of the explosion.   
  
My father couldn’t have survived that, I don’t know if my brothers managed to escape through the window, but my father was too close to the explosion.  
  
My whole body collapsed against the metal chair, unable to tear my eyes away from the static on the screen. I didn’t notice as the two foot soldiers undid my restraints.  
  
I feel like my whole world has been ripped apart.  
  
I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet. I know what happened but I keep expecting to wake up from the nightmare.  
  
I assume I’ve gone into a form of shock, because I don’t know how much time has passed, but I haven’t shed a single tear.


End file.
